A tube in the life

It’s official. Tom and I have been here for three months. We are employed, homed and generally settling in well. Stuff has happened…a lot of stuff really – Glastonbury (aka the best time you could ever imagine having ever. Seriously. There is a reason it’s on people’s bucket lists) and some other less exciting stuff (trying to find a house with a shower that doesn’t involve ridonk agent fees and/or drug den vibes).

We have also lost an incredible, dynamic and inspiring man – Douglas McKenzie and were lucky enough to be present for his farewell thanks to the wonders of technology. Doug (sorry I know you hated us calling you that but you’ll always be Doug to me!) this one’s for you.

On the whole, things are good in London…and I don’t mean English good (as in “Yes I’m good” but really I want to throw things at you), I mean actually good.

To give you an insight into my life right now I have to get a little cynical on things because well, it’s just what you do here. So bear with me as I regale you with a typical morning in the life of an (almost) Londoner…

07:55: I start my two minute wander to the tube in the hopes that I will get a seat.

07:57: Any semblance of normality in my hair is ruined by the gust of wind that greets me on the way down. I fumble with my free paper (still a novelty) as it flaps its pages in a desperate attempt to escape my grip.

07:58: Hopes are dashed. There are no seats.

07:59: Attempt eye content with men hogging the seats.

08:00: Remember that chivalry is dead.

08:01: Try to read paper whilst gripping a pole and wonder who the eff Cara Delvigne is and why she appears on every second page.

08:05: Have to change train lines and get frustrated at a three minute wait. Faintly recall waiting patiently for buses in Wellington for over twenty minutes before feeling this way.

08:08: Alight the train and wonder at what point I realised that alight meant get on.

08:10: Turn back to the paper. Try not to show that I’m reading the trashy celebrity pages. Pretend to glance at the business section and then flick back to find out whether Cara Whatsherface is dating ThatGuy.

08:15: See a seat open up and feel too shy/guilty to take it.

08:15: Remember where I am and elbow the pregnant lady and old man out of the way to nab it.

08:20: Stare at the wall opposite after tiring of the paper, feeling confident that I know Cara Delvinegarette’s life story.

08:25: Ponder the odd engraved “CKONE” graffiti – post modern marketing?

08:27: Realise that the next stop is where I get off. Stand up too early and fall back into the person behind me.

08:27: Avoid daggers being shot at the back of my head from said person’s eyes.

08:28: Walk up the escalator and into the light, ready for a day above ground.

08:28: Remember to smile at the man flogging dodgy magazines at the exit so he wishes me a good day.

08:29: See the big clock in Leicester Square and am reminded that I live in one of the most incredible cities in the world.

08:30: Praise the lord that I don’t have to go back underground for another ten hours.


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